Sacrifice of Fire
by roseriddle4444
Summary: Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn’t people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?"—Rose Kennedy. Slight change of volcano plot. Warnings: sexual themes and a suspension of belief is required. Also: may not make sense.
1. Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

AN: I feel very, very scared. PDCLDS is very Mary Sue, when I look at her, but I did base her off these girls whom I completely love and cannot see faults from. Put yourself in her position, if you want. I do have a description, but you don't have to read it. And the numerous names symbolize what I want you to take away most from this story. Dawn is beauty that comes naturally ever day (as opposed to Aurora, which I briefly debated.)

* * *

Prologue: Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Dear Diary,

I'm really going to have to name you soon, like all my other diaries. You're an iridescent pink thing, so I guess I'll call you Magenta. Anyway, I need to tell you who I am so we don't start off all these entries as strangers. Well, my name is Pearl Dulcibella Ceinwen Love Dawn Sayen Silver. Yes, that is my full name. It used to end with "Reid," but then my parents died in 9/11. Isn't it funny how I can type that date and nobody asks for the year? It seemed so personal that my parents died, like it was just me, but everybody knows what it was. It feels almost like a mercy killing for my mother, Catarina Logan-Reid, though. She was schizophrenic, and hit me sometimes when her favorite "demon" (she swore they were angels, but an angel doesn't tell anybody to put their baby in boiling water and scrub until her skin starts coming off!) named Cailean told her to. Anyway, Daddy (Bill Reid) or Callie (my sister, Calanthe) would usually stop her. But stupid Casimir Wilson had to go and rape her and she had to drop out and support her kids, so everybody thought she "asked for it" and Mommy and Daddy sent me to Seaside, New York. Mommy was stay-at-home while Daddy worked as a construction person at…well, do I really have to elaborate? We were really well-off until Mommy decided to go to visit Daddy that day because he forgot his lunch for the forty-billionth time. Then I went to the hospital because they let school out early and I wanted news on my parents. I actually saw Mommy fall from the window next to my desk until she disappeared from behind another building. And I found Daddy two months later. Well, found his body, really. They never found Mommy. I know what happens when someone falls down 101 floors, so I'm not too surprised they didn't find much. Given airline restrictions after the collapses, I'm not surprised it took Callie about half a year to pick me up, or that I was approaching 4th grade (I was 8 when this all happened) by the time we finally made it back to Silver Creek, Indiana. And when we did get back, I met this really sweet guy (he's not really a looker, though) and I joined his gang. I know what you're thinking—gangs = violence + drugs. But the Fauna isn't like that at all. We watch out for each other. We've got two branches: the Wolves sell guns and use them, and the Wildcats sell drugs and use them. The Wolves defend us and fight only when they have to, and our code is Only in Someone Else's Defense. That means we can't hurt someone else unless they are threatening someone else's safety. Mostly, though, we hang out at school and plan things, like for territory and honor in the streets. We're really a protector for people. We do illegal things so other people don't have to. Okay, I know how stupid that sounds. Anyway, you may be wondering what's happened to me since my sister and parents both died by the time I was 12. Well, the Wolf leader Samantha Silver and the Wildcat leader Michael Goren got married and adopted me. Oh, and Samantha bullied Michael into accepting her last name rather than the other way around, which is why my last name s Silver and not Goren. Anyway, both the Wildcats and the Wolves have pretty much disbanded and are starting to seek new leaders Brenda MacDowell and Lyle Gordon are the candidates, respectively. And what's cool is they're getting married soon too! It's going to be great! I just hope I can make it back for the wedding, because we never know how long it takes to film a movie. The movie's called "Moonlit Shores," and it's about this girl named Rose and a boy named Zane. Zane was really abused (I based it on Ken's childhood) and she finds out he had multiple siblings scattered in foster homes across the country and they go on a road trip to find them. Varda (my grief counselor after Callie died, and we're really good friends) playing Rose, I'm playing a foster girl Varda meets named Reienne, Mara Bennett (my best friend) plays Rose's best friend Cwen, Sam Shirley (who is totally not as girly as his last name) plays Cwen's brother, Samantha plays my mother, and since I don't have a father, Michael's only coming to be with his family. Isn't he nice? If only everyone had a family like mine! Jaunie Kim is playing Ashleigh, Coralie Song is playing Paige, and Anielka (Elke for short) Cui plays Irma. And in case you want to know how the characters look: I'm an albino with scarlet eyes and strawberry blonde hair, insanely pale skin (except my mouth is a brilliant ruby). I have XXX syndrome, ADHD, hyperthyroidism, congenital insensitivity to pain (and temperature) with anhidrosis, and polymorphic light eruption. So, basically, I probably won't have kids, I lose weight really fast, I act like I'm a hummingbird on crack, I can't feel pain or temperature, I can't sweat, and I can't go out in the sun or I break out in hives. That last one isn't as bad as it may seem, since I'm albino and I burn easily anyway. Oh, and I'm also slightly psychic. Really. I played this game with my friends a lot where they would hold something they could cover with their fists and I would guess which hand held the thing. I've never missed, except that one game with McDreamy (aka Calix Bell) where I always guessed which hand didn't hold the thing. The doctors told my parents when I was born that I would probably only have a 70-point IQ since I have XXX. I just recently got tested and the score came back as 149. That's more than twice what the doctors said! Varda said, "That's our Dawn, always ready to sear your corneas with the sun when you least expect it." Ha-ha, Varda! She's in Choir with me, and we're going to Disneyland at the end of this year! Hey, there's somebody knocking at the door and it's raining outside, so I've got to go open it before I open the door to a drowned body. That would be gross and sad.

Dawn yawned and walked to the door. She felt something rip when she stretched, and there was a lump there. Stupid ribs just wouldn't heal. At least there was nothing on her face; she liked to look pretty.

There was another knock, more insistent this time.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Dawn grumbled. She walked down the stairs and opened the door to complete darkness until lightning sharply illuminated a squelching figure, the kind you'd expect to sit in a rocking chair knitting before a dilapidated wooden house with way too many cats. "Oh, you must be soaking! Come in," Dawn said, pity overtaking sense. "And you are?" Dawn asked, rotating her wrist in a gesture to get the woman to talk.

The woman had wild and oversized eyes that sunk deep into her head, pale lips, bones clearly visible, and grey hair like the strands on an overused mop. If Dawn hadn't recognized her outside, she certainly did now that the woman was in the light.

* * *

Guess who the woman is! It's not that hard, people! Next chapter, we get to see more of the humor that Varda Swan commented on. By the way, Varda is an idealized version of me. I know you're not supposed to do that, but I couldn't help it! Eek! *Ducks the tomatos thrown at her.*


	2. Shattered

Should I be afraid? Did I mention I already finished this story when I started posting? Oh, dear! I hope you don't turn away just because of that! Please, read and review. I don't want to beg...actually, I do kinda wanna beg. Um, any and everything in italics happened in the past, and since Pearlie is what Dawn's parents called her before Bill died, the flashback happened before 9/11.

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Chapter I: Shattered

Catarina Logan-Reid had been matchstick-thin since Dawn could remember. Even though she had lost her almost-wavy black hair and the formerly careworn features were now neuroanesthetic, the nose was as straight as ever.

"Mommy?" Dawn cautiously volunteered. She tried out the word a few more times to get that rusty, unused feeling like she didn't know what was going on. After all, she hadn't used it in 6 years. But if she expected vehement denial, it didn't happen. Instead, Catarina smiled widely.

"Cailean told me you'd be here," Catarina seemed to cheer.

Cailean! Ever since Callie's rape, Catarina had gotten more and more visits from the demon. Cailean was almost godlike in the fact that he could never be eradicated from Catarina's life, despite numerous attempts. Dawn had never loved nor hated the name, but she knew in that instant that her life was completely wrong. 'I'm dreaming,' she thought. 'I must be.' Then she looked at her very much alive—although the quality said life could be debated—and she smiled. 'I like this dream.' Thus she responded to her fears (and hopes) by swallowing the former and giving a tempered smile filled with the latter with a, "How are you doing, Mommy?"

Suddenly, the almost lethargic Catarina switched gears into a furious, vengeful goddess. "No! No! Cailean! No!" she picked up a skillet and began to whack Dawn's torso with it.

"Stop, Mother!" another voice cried. For the second time that day, Dawn froze and stared at another supposed ghost. That pixie-like face, the light brown hair, and those hazel eyes would have been recognized anywhere, instantly.

"Calanthe," Catarina calmed.

Thinner, much thinner, Callie nevertheless stood like an imposing force on her smaller mother.

"I'll make tea," Dawn said duly, not knowing what else to do.

"I hate tea," Catarina said.

"Me too, actually," Dawn was glad she didn't have to drink that disgusting mixture Samantha loved. "It was the gesture. You guys want to tell me who you really are or prove you're really Callie and Mommy?"

"We used to ply a game where you'd guess which hand held the small object," Callie piped up immediately. She looked at Catarina. "Mother isn't really in a place to declare herself," Callie said without flinching at Catarina's condition. She had never flinched at anything as far as Dawn remembered.

"Too true," Dawn felt pressure behind her eyeballs but she refused to tear up. She looked at Callie and attempted a joke. "You either really Callie or you deserve an Oscar. I couldn't ever imitate you to my standards."

Callie, rather than running and gathering her sister in her arms, ran and gathered the ingredients to put on coffee.

Stung, Dawn responded with, "Why don't you get some tea?"

Callie returned with her own dry quip. "Tea is soothing. I wish to be tense."

Dawn watched Callie drink for a few more minutes before asking, "So, is Daddy gonna walk through those doors or are you two the only ghosts?" She walked toward three chairs, putting two so that they faced her, resting her hand on the third.

"First, we did not walk _through_ the door, we walked past it. Second, it's just us."

Dawn took her hand off the third chair. "Then you may want to get Mommy on a couch, since she only listens to you now. When you're done with that, you better sit down right here and tell me the whole story."

"Remember how people said I was raped and got pregnant by Casimir Wilson?" Callie began.

"'Course," Dawn didn't disclose that she had been a bitch Hanna, Casimir's younger sister, about the violation until she realized that Hanna's mother, Persephone, had been sexually abusing her children for years. It made sense that, since Casimir was taught that women were only sexual animals, that he would impregnate Callie by force. But only Callie and Hanna had suffered. Hanna especially, so much slander as a slut after popular Dawn and her friends. But admitting to much would be admitting to flaws. And nobody's too good at that, especially if they were the American Dream personified—rich, pretty, and famous. So Dawn stayed silent.

"Well, that's not really what happened," Callie winced at her own words. They sounded like some stupid line in a corny book or movie. She glanced at Dawn, as if considering her, to hide the fact that she felt stupid. "What would you say if I told you that Cailean's real and that he's the guy who raped me?"

"I would say that my head is spinning from too much information and that this is a horrible story," even as Dawn spoke, her brain started putting pieces of information together. Only after Callie's rape was Catarina seeing Cailean. Perhaps Cailean left such an impression on her family…ugh! Seven-year old memories were so fuzzy by the time you were 15! "Actually, I would say that it makes sense."

Callie seemed to take succor from Dawn's acceptance, judging from the slight shoulder drooping and back straightening. "And what if I told you that Cailean was magick?"

"I would tell you that I don't believe in magick," Dawn's response was deliberately derisive. "I only believe in things with solid proof, like geometry. Actually, that's no very solid. You have to imagine shapes in your head. Um…I'll get back to you on that. Continue with what you just said."

"Call Varda; she's my proof," Callie said smugly.

"I'm leaving for the Golden State tomorrow, so this better be quick," Dawn looked at Callie suspiciously. On her way to the phone, it occurred to her that she had only known Varda _after_ Callie had supposedly died. Still, Dawn took her pale pink Blackberry Pearl and dialed Varda Swan.

"So, who are your parents now?" Callie asked to fill in the awkward silence as the phone rang. "Are they any good?"

"Oh, Samantha Silver and Michael Goren are really good if I make them happy," Dawn said mildly as she knew how.

"What if you don't make them happy? What happens then?"

"The usual: shrieking, swearing, ground—Varda? Yes, it's Dawn. Calanthe wants you to prove that there's magick in the world before I have her locked up in the same room as Mommy," Dawn said in a bored voice, which promptly vanished as Varda suddenly appeared in the living room without the pop or the smoky puff that the movies always depict teleportation.

Varda Swan was a 14-year old girl hardly more developed than a girl of 10 with a 197-point IQ, which worked in her favor. She entered college at age 9, graduating a year later with a Ph. D and went on to become Dawn's own therapist, mostly because she looked like she knew what to do in any situation. She was short, pretty, and skinny with long straight black hair, big dark brown eyes, and a gigantic smile that always gave off the impression that she was delighted. Nothing about her revealed that she was helping feed Dawn's addiction to Ritalin. Varda, as Dawn's therapist, and Jaunie's mother Miyoko, as Dawn's doctor, were able to prescribe her the pills.

For a moment, there was a tense silence as both brunettes watched the strawberry blonde. Then questions streamed out of Dawn's mouth, interrupted only by sudden cursing.

"Varda, how do you do that?" and "Oh my gosh, Callie, you were right!" were the only things that were understood.

"Whoa, Dawn. Maybe decaf?" Callie looked bemused.

"Oh, I don't drink coffee," Dawn said.

"Okay, to answer your first question, I need to have Callie explain a bit of background information," Varda let Callie solidify herself in her sister's life once more, backing down with a bow that, I'm sure, was meant to be graceful.

Watch out for stairs.

"Cailean kidnapped me and tried to make it look like I died. He took used 9/11 to his advantage to get Mrs. Reid because he thought he could get to his twin daughters' mother through her," Callie said after checking to make sure Varda wasn't smeared across the polished maple wood flooring.

At the last comment, Dawn stopped worrying over Varda's fall started putting the information together again. Callie kept talking, but Dawn made a zipping motion with her right thumb, right index finger, and lips before going back to staring.

"I have a twin?" was she could, rather dumbly, say.

"Hell no!" Callie yelled. "Cailean had twins. Safara is a bit slow, but Jezebel is nothing but her father's minion."

Dawn left her sister there so Varda could deal with her. She didn't know what to do, so she simply reapplied makeup.

Dawn's strawberry blonde hair cascaded in elegant curls against her shoulder, soft skin like flower petals, a pink heart-shaped mouth, crystal blue-green eyes, and a heart-shaped face that would have been lovely if it wasn't so melancholy. She never really needed makeup, but she needed something to occupy her hands and there was no paper and pencil handy. She figured it would be important to have an aesthetic eye some day when she needed to look good for a job interview or something.

As she got ready to go back to Callie, the door opened burst open. Half-expecting to see her father, Dawn was disappointed when it wasn't, but she squashed the feeling quickly.

Brenda McDowell, a self-proclaimed Scot with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, had a face that suggested its owner was quick. But the owner was frightened and hysterical.

"Ken's gone!" she yelled.

The whole house froze. Callie got up and left, not caring that Brenda had already seen her. That wasn't the reason she left. Callie left because she was thisclose to staring at the expression on Dawn's face. Well, with every eye on Brenda (except Brenda's own), nobody would have noticed that Dawn's face was completely devastated.

Callie couldn't shake off the feeling that Dawn was too young to be dating. Yes, Dawn was merely seven when they had been separated, but still! And who was this Ken anyway? Callie was in true older sister form, and Dawn, in her subconscious somewhere, noticed.

"You like, Ken, Dawn. How did you two meet?" Callie said aloud.

Dawn blushed. "I found Mr. Tully abusing him, and there was a stupid rescue thing. We dated through seventh grade."

"And then?" Callie prodded.

Varda nearly died laughing. "Calix Bell happened, that's what!"

"He is?" it was now Callie's turn to have her head spinning from too much information all at once.

"Calix is the trombone player who sits right behind Dawn in band. Their first conversation began when he got overenthusiastic with his slide," Varda lied. She had been the French horn player right next to Calix when Dawn had fainted in during class and Calix had ended up suspended. Dawn had felt so awful.

"_He's just a stupid boy," Mara had said. "He hurt you."_

"_I like him. He's familiar. In a good way."_

Callie sat up, as if suddenly electrified. "Oh, dear," she murmured. "Has it started already, then?"

* * *

I warned everyone it was going to follow the basic plotline. Anyway, the slide is the part of the trombone that slides when the player pushes it. Please, please, please review! I can still change things about the story, if it would please you for me to do so!


	3. Fields of Gold

I'm going to apologize to Franscesca Lia Block for the paragraph of Pearlie singing. I had to put it somewhere, and since Varda is too quite to be loud and Mara is too loud to be quiet, I figured Dawn would be perfect.

* * *

Chapter II: Fields of Gold.

Varda and Dawn shared a tense look.

"Shall we tell her?" Dawn asked. "Does she know already, like you did," her voice was not accusing, but it sounded betrayed.

"No, and I would have told you sooner, but would you have believed me if I said that Callie and Catarina were still alive?" Varda's voice got louder when she was upset. Luckily, Brenda didn't seem to notice. Her hands were still shaking, making the teacup rattle against its plate as she drank.

"Should I call Rabbi Weir?" Dawn asked. Her mother had been Jewish, but Dawn never bought into religion. Besides, Ken had run away a few times before.

Brenda shook her head. She was Wiccan, and never believed in rabbis and such. "Ken was just gone. Whoever it was that took him reduced his car to…scrap metal!"

Dawn took one look through the window and said, "I'll call Lyle, see if he'll pick you up. It's too dark to walk home now."

"No, don't bother Lyle. He's so nice, and I know he's busy at the office today," Brenda said absently.

Dawn called anyway. Both Brenda and Lyle would thank her later.

* * *

"Has the line moved at all?" Dawn sighed, brushing the hair away from her face like she had twenty times in the last ten minutes.

"Dawn, I've been here two hours longer than you so that you could sleep in," Mara chided. She rarely got frustrated, but when she did, everyone knew to stay away from her.

"Blue suit yellow case is staring at you," Dawn whispered in their code. It meant that a man in a blue suit with yellow baggage was ogling Mara. Dawn could hardly blame him. Mara's brown hair gleamed wonderfully, her perfectly-shaped ears were well set back, she had picturesque freckles, her eyes were green and yellow and brown all at once, and she was perfectly proportioned. Even without makeup to flaunt her beauty, heads turned hopelessly.

"Orange sundress orange purse is making eyes at you," Mara whispered. As average as Dawn looked, she wasn't straight. Dawn turned to look at the woman who quickly turned away. Dawn looked at Mara, who nodded wordlessly.

"It's no shame to be gay, you know, unless you're doing something stupid with it," Dawn said when she was next to the woman.

The woman blinked twice. "I'm engaged, I'm pregnant, and I don't know what to do."

"Where are you headed?"

"California," the woman said in the same whispery voice as before.

"And you are…"

"Maxine Valera."

"Well, Miss Valera, being gay is nothing bad unless you make it bad. Tell him, and you can still have children. I live with a mom and a dad who aren't married, and I don't have a mug shot or a record, or even a sing—well, I failed one class, but that was because…never mind," Dawn crept back into her line. But she periodically checked Miss Valera. The first time she looked, the woman seemed to be conflicted. The second time, she was on her phone. Then she looked happy, but tired. Satisfied, Dawn began wondering why people decided to take flights that were shorter than the preparation and all the security checks before the flights.

* * *

Mara, Varda, Sam, and Dawn were the only ones still awake as the bus drove past California beaches. From the San Francisco Airport, they had hopped a bus several miles south to Rainbow Valley. The white sands and salty scents tantalized the group.

"I hope you guys brought suntan lotion," Dawn said. She didn't intend on swimming, especially a bikini that looked like it couldn't wrap a donut. She had more dignity than that, and besides, water was cold.

"I hope I still fit in my swimsuit," Mara looked at her yellow one-piece. It didn't reveal enough to send her home from school—indeed, some women on the streets in Idlewild County walked around wearing what looked like a bra and thong underwear, and shirtless guys were nothing new.

"I hope I can get a good surfboard," Sam said. He stared at a beachgoer's cleavage. She waved at him and he waved dumbly back.

Mara, Varda, and Dawn looked and each other and made gagging motions before each went back to their respective soft drinks.

"I hope there's no earthquake," Dawn said. She was expert at saying what nobody wanted to hear. All seven in the car were afraid that there would be an earthquake and someone would die. You always hear about Californian earthquakes. They're famous.

When the adolescents had all arrived at their destination, Holiday Inn, they hopped off the Jaguar and took out their luggage. From there, they were each given their rooms and bade Sam goodnight.

Elke was a short and sunburned girl with big brown eyes, black hair, possessive, and brave to a fault. Jaunie was short with wavy hair that was almost black on her head, brow, and lashes, clear back eyes, and she wasn't really pretty, but she had a pale, overwhelmed beauty. She kept secrets told jokes that were actually funny. Coralie had olive skin, jet-black hair, beetle-black eyes, a pug nose, and was enthusiastic and assertive. Although she was often angry, it was the fearful anger. The three were rooming with the other three girls, and each had brought their favorite romantic comedy to share on the portable DVD player that they had all chipped in for.

"Guys, it's nearly 3:00. Shouldn't we be asleep by now?" Dawn asked worriedly. "I mean, really, security's come up three times saying that we need to bring it down."

"Fine," Varda grumbled. She was always in the mood for fun, but she could get sulky if she didn't get her way. But the mattresses were so deliciously soft that soon the girls were asleep. Pity they didn't stay that way.

* * *

A loud rumbling shook Dawn awake. All the books on her shelves quivered as if about to fall. Harry Potter 5 and 6 actually did. The girls were still half-asleep, unmoving.

"Earthquake!" Sam yelled in warning from the other room.

That got the girls moving! Dawn grabbed her stuffed cat Snow and tripped over her nightgown in the process. Her hand automatically reached for the window ledge, and she saw the thick black point rise from the ground. She turned around quickly to find the other five girls leaving.

"Guys, it's not an earthquake. It's a mound," Dawn said.

All the girls tried to squeeze themselves in a position to see the mound.

"It looks like a mountain," Mara said. "I can almost feel the burning." She had accepted the magick thing from her friends with surprising ease. Dawn didn't even dare to tell the other girls.

"It's a volcano," Varda's voice was awed.

"Right," Dawn said absently. There was an odd beauty in the volcano's consummation. What else could one feel, standing beside nature's awesome power, but being diminished and seeing so much possibility? It was like the ocean, but much, much closer and warmer. Still, the odd shape sent shivers down Dawns back. She felt something that could only be described as ominous.

"Let's tell Callie," Mara said, leaving the window.

"Callie. She changed her name to Calanthe, remember" Dawn reminded. But she got ready to leave anyway. Varda, an expert hacker, could alter records in a second. Callie had offered her expertise too, making Dawn see just how little she knew of her sister in the 15 years before Dawn was born. Still, she had to crack a smile. Yes, she understood how seriously bad events could turn with the rising of this volcano, but she couldn't help but feed off the adrenaline rush. ****

"Dear lord," Callie groaned.

"What was that for?" Dawn asked.

Callie grabbed Dawn's shoulders and shook them. "That volcano isn't naturally formed. Cailean made it appear because he _knows_ we're here.

"More specifically, he knows you are here even though your records are changed," Varda was not especially famous for taking time to think about things before she spoke or acted.

"Great," Callie groaned. She started for her bags. "I have to pack up _again_."

"Maybe not," Varda looked sorry. "He's targeting this area, where there are many people, considering the island's size. Maybe there's a reason. Maybe those people are meant to help us. Do you like chocolate?" Varda was quite famous, however, for changing tack at the slightest or no provocation. She took the cellophane-wrapped muffin out. It was dotted with brown and black.

"Ew, I hate chocolate," Callie said as Dawn shook her head. But Callie took the muffin and a huge bite.

"So, why are you eating it?" Dawn asked, arms crossed and leaning sideways in curiosity.

"Because it has licorice bits in it too. I love licorice," Callie confessed smugly, pointing out the black spots with her finger. "Observe. As Mom always said, 'Don't just get so stuck on one puzzle piece.' The only reason people emphasize teamwork is because everyone gets so caught up in one area that they have to look at other areas to get a clue. To every season, there is a reason. To borrow an overly clichéd phrase, think outside the box."

Dawn and Varda stared for a second before bursting into laughter. All the girls (and woman) had their eccentricities, but only Callie would dare to be nonconformist before strangers in a strange place.

"Nice," Callie licked her fingers and wiped them on her butt.

"Mara Bennett," a man, who looked like he was born 40 years old, poked his head into the room.

"Yeah?" Mara appeared right behind him.

The man jumped, then tried to rearrange himself. "You're wanted in the caster's office. So are you," he pointed at Callie.

Tension landed on the group like a thick blanket. Everyone knew that the caster's recall meant that you were about to be replaced.

"Call someone to pick her up," said Varda's eyes.

"Who?" Dawn's expression was clear.

Varda shrugged. It was too obvious to everyone. That it the boy Dawn had been crushing on ever since they first met in middle school. No one could figure out why she liked him so much…

_Pearlie finished her song letting the last note ring over the creek. There was something about Silver Creek and the maples ringing it that made Pearlie's barely audible singing voice so that each tree, dewdrop, grass blade, and flower sang with her until the song carried over mountains. Luckily, it was twilight, when people would be lulled to sleep by it. Pearlie lay down in the grass. In Silver Creek—Idlewild County itself, really—the worst crime which had ever occurred were a few trashcans being knocked down on Halloween, and maybe the person who always changed the Unitarian Universalist Church (the one that Pearlie's parents attended) sign. And that was why all the children could stay out until the crack _of_ dawn. Nothing could ever hurt her here. Except perhaps the boy who was tripping over her._

"_Sorry, I was looking for Cygnus, the Swan," the boy apologized._

"_That Cygnus?" Pearlie pointed. "I was out here looking for Cassiopeia."_

"_Cassiopeia is right there," the boy showed her._

"_Oh, yeah! That would be the throne. Thanks," she smiled._

"_That song was really pretty," the boy said. "But it was real girly. Can't you sing something more manly?"_

"_Can't you say something girly?" Pearlie turned her head and the golden rose with tear-drop shaped diamonds for petals fell out. The boy caught it._

"_Hey, I'll give this back to you if you'll marry me. All my friends say I like that stupid little Hanna Wilson," the boy _of_fered it to her like an olive branch._

"_Only if I get a carriage. A Cinderella kinda carriage," Pearlie said._

"_Done," the boy nodded._

* * *

Next time on Sacrifice of Fire, a bunch of accidents that you can't even imagine happening (but really did happen, and I am an eyewitness) are going to happen.


	4. Slipped Away

Um, here we go again with too much laughing for this to be a suspense story. Anyway, if you're curious about how much time has passed, the time passes however long you want it to. This chapter could be a week after the last, or just a day or two. This is your story, pretty much. Feel free to insert people you know as Calix or Mara or Varda or Dawn.

* * *

Chapter III: Slipped Away

"Well, well, well, Dawn Reid," Calix Bell teased. He had that irresistible smirk on, the one that caused Dawn to break up with her last boyfriend, Alagan Connors, for.

"Hello Mr. Bell," Dawn attempted formality in hopes that it would cover up the fact that her heart was knocking against her ribs.

He frowned, making Dawn give an inward cheer. Then he leaned forward. "I think Mara's gonna try to cook. Wanna watch the crying and cursing?"

Dawn laughed suddenly. Mara was born to be a knockout, both out and inside the kitchen. Unfortunately, the latter involved knocking herself out with the cheese grater.

"All those vivid and bewitching good looks, would it kill her to make an omelet?" Ken would say if he could.

Dawn choked up suddenly. "It would kill us," she would say. "Who else would we laugh at then?"

"You," Calix replied, eyes shining with some unreadable emotion.

"Did I say that out loud?" Dawn wasn't too surprised. When one is a klutz, they learn to expect the unexpected. Although, if one expects the unexpected, wouldn't that make the unexpected expected? "Wait, why me?"

"Who else can cook up a house fire with thanksgiving dinner?" Calix's eyes said it all…Dawn was an open book.

"At least _I_ didn't have to have surgery on my nose after snorting gravel up a nostril on a dare," was all Dawn could return with. Calix's nostrils flared, making it more apparent that one was smaller than the other.

"Really? Well who, while playing with her now-ex-boyfriend's wheelchair, landed on Highway I-86 and caused traffic to be stopped for a day, making state headlines?" Calix shot back.

"Hey, guys, please tell me that this is still salvageable," Mara brought a completely black turkey out from the oven in a tray.

"Is that you, Mara Bennett, cooking? I could smell it," Edmund Michaels, a 14-year old with eyes like glowing brandy and golden-blond hair, who had once had a (very obvious) crush on Dawn and now moved on to Mara, entered with two shiny packages. "And Dawn, you're getting too lovely for a single lady."

"My favorite book! You remembered!" Dawn flipped her soft strawberry-blonde curls behind her ears. "Do _I_ get one?" she pointed to the packages. She meant to sound flirty, but it just came out whiny.

Edmund handed her a grey box with an attractively delicate silver dress. "Straight from Juji."

"Juji? Juji-the-entrepreneur-from-Rwanda? That Juji?" Calix looked at the dress. A month ago, Dawn had loaned Juji the money she needed to start her own business, and now it looked like she was paid in full.

Before Edmund could confirm or deny (or show what was in the other box) Dawn remembered the question that had been burning in her brain.

"Mara, what happened with the caster?"

"The caster said that she'd get Callia to play Callie and 'my services were no longer needed.' But she couldn't find Callia to tell her, so she found me instead," Mara said, almost upset.

It occurred to Dawn that she had not seen Callia for hours. Days.

"Eddie, can you do me a favor and check room 232 at the Marriott across the street?" Dawn held up a key.

"Sure," Eddie took the car key and left. An hour later, he was back with a ripped note in his hand that had chicken scratch on it. Dawn, having the messiest handwriting in the world, could read just about anything if she could read her own cursive.

"'Justice will always find evil,'" Dawn read. "What the heck? Makes no sense," she screamed, walking out onto the street and suddenly finding herself blinking up at the sky.

"Sorry about my dog. He's a little too excited," an attractive and tall girl with shiny blue-black hair and an expressive oval face spoke like she was keeping back laughs. She looked more studiously serious than seriously sorry, pissing Dawn off immediately.

"You should see my cats. They leave furballs everywhere. I once found on in my neighbor's Rolls Royce. Boy, did that take time to explain," Dawn said.

"Are you a native Indianananan…nan?" the girl stumbled. "Are you from Indiana?" she said finally.

"Who do I look like?" Dawn recited a line from her more famous movie. "Cairo? Isn't that some kinda syrup? Maybe?"

The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, my gosh! Dawn Reid! Oh, gee! I-I'm Angelica Mei," she said almost loudly. "Hey, can you call me and make my friends think I'm cool?"

"I guess. And I'd introduce myself, but you clearly know me, so I'll just exit," Dawn walked gracefully past the sign for the dog park before she tripped flat on her face. ****

"Where _is_ that Varda?" director Rushil Stone was even more pissed.

"What?" Dawn entered the breakfast room in her pink chenille robe. "Varda's gone too?"

"What do you mean by 'gone _too_?'?" Rushil quoted with a confused look.

"I mean my sis-Callia is gone too. Probably Varda's just sleeping in again. She's not a morning person, you know," Dawn walked to Varda's room, hoping the closed—never locked—door proved her right. "Whoa," she turned the knob and quickly put her cocoa on the ground before she dropped it.

"I don't think she disappeared," Rushil said, playing Captain Obvious.

The room was covered with what used to be mahogany furniture and faux-leather cushions, a painted white bookcase filled with books had been knocked over, a few good pictures which used to beautify the bare whitewashed walls had been flung randomly, torn icy white muslin frills fluttered in vagrant breezes, and the purple matting on the floor was wet from a shattered vase and the wilted martagon that used to fill it (Dawn and Varda had this ting for fresh flowers.) The low bed that had a bedspread with chubby Cupids and gold grapes hanging off the corners was the only thing still standing.

"Don't say it. Don't say it," Rushil chanted. "Don't—"

"She was kidnapped," Dawn rarely sugarcoated the truth when there was business to be done.

"I'll call 911," Rushil left.

Dawn didn't say anything. Rushil assumed she wanted to be alone when she felt for her friend. But all Dawn did was pick up the pale green index card off the ground. It was clearly not Varda's—she only liked neon yellow note cards.

"Magickal powers will drive away the tyrant," it said.

Dawn pocketed the note. She didn't want anyone to get their hands on this.

* * *

"Officer Walden?" Dawn looked up in surprise and frustration.

"Dawn," John greeted, diminished.

"_Who's that," Pearlie asked a nearby nurse, pointing to the man sprawled across a bed, looking like death warmed over._

"_Officer John Walden. He was badly stabbed," the nurse said absently. She whirled around as she saw a doctor wheel a patient by and went to help._

_Pearlie stood there, 8 years old, waiting for the nurse to come back and tell her that her father, a worker in the World Trade Center (96__th__ floor), and her mother, who was bringing him his lunch after hearing he wouldn't be back (from who else but Cailean?). Other than Callie's going-away several years ago, nothing bad had ever happened. Sitting next to Officer Walden, however, she let herself feel fear, let herself understand that she might not live a charmed life._

"_Belle?" he raised his head weakly._

"_Pearlie," Pearlie identified herself. "I don't like hospitals."_

"_Got a place to stay?" he asked._

"_No."_

"_Do you want to stay with me?"_

_Pearlie shrugged. A broken cop and a doll-sized girl could fall through the cracks pretty easily. Nobody said a word as he took the girl to his cramped apartment. He treated her well until Pearlie saw Callia across the street and ran to her._

_Walden didn't stop her. Nor did he turn her away after she appeared on his doorstep in November after Bill's body had been found. She needed to talk to someone who wouldn't yell at her if she cried._

Ever since she turned to Walden for comfort, she had found someone who wouldn't ever demand anything from her except that she lives in a way that didn't hurt anyone else. The two knew each other very well by now. It was Walden whom Dawn called after Varda's drug bust went bad, when Dawn found that Ken and Hanna were being abused, when Dawn was finally got a phone during her abduction. Now, here he was, in her life again.

"Welcome to Rainbow Valley," Dawn half-shrugged. "I ain't too happy to see you," she looked up at him from her chair.

"My heart is broken," Walden joked.

"You're such a disaster angel. If trouble's there, so are you. It just makes you associated with disaster. Sure, you're a comfort angel too, but…comfort angels only come to you with their troubles. I guess what I'm saying is that trouble precedes comfort, you know," Dawn said awkwardly. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't.

Walden looked at her briefly. "You're getting close," he said before getting really to walk away.

"Getting close to…" Dawn gestured for Walden to continue.

"It's your job to find it."

"Can you tell me what I'm supposed to find?"

"No, or you won't be able to find it."

Dawn laughed. Surely, finding this would be easy. She had enough money and connections to move mountains. And a reputation to protect.

* * *

"You're like a scared Barbie doll," Eddie said at lunch. "Always looking good, but never fighting back or standing up to anyone."

"If someone hurts me, it has to be because something terrible happened to them to make them want to do something terrible. The idea is to heal, not punish," Dawn replied shortly.

"Anybody seen Mara," Calix entered, looking both flustered and frantic. He had clearly been extremely busy, or he would have checked the mirror and seen how he looked like Einstein. But this was neither the time nor place for Eddie and Dawn to point the fact out.

"No," Dawn put down her cheese pizza. "But people have been vanishing off this set ever since…oh, ever since the volcano! Did you find anything in her room, a note, maybe?"

"Yeah, this," Calix took out a crumpled ball of paper. "An unnatural judge will combat unnatural corruption."

"I can't see anything," Eddie said, peering at the card closely.

* * *

"These cards don't make sense," Dawn frowned and said the same thing she had been repeating for an hour.

"Neither does you face," Calix snarled.

Walden glared at the boy. "Calix, Mara is the third person to disappear. I think the seriousness of the situation goes beyond common name-calling."

"It's all puzzle pieces," Dawn recalled aloud.

Calix thought of Mara's disappearance, which led him to recall Ken's most recent running away. "Ken disappeared too, didn't he?"

Dawn gasped. "Mr. Walden, can you look at the Ken Tully disappearance?" she approached the man. She was, apparently, the only one who did not fear Walden and his uniform.

"What do you want to know?"

"Was there an index card found at the scene?"

"A blank neon yellow card," Walden replied.

* * *

Oh, and in case you were wondering about the songs, "Have You Ever Seen the Rain" is by Rod Stewart, "Shattered" is by Of A Revolution, "Fields of Gold" is by Sting, and "Slipped Away" is by Avril Lavigne. I'm not saying you have to listen to them, I'm just saying that I like them and recommend them to anyone.


	5. Come Home

OneRepublic's "Come Home." Other than that, I have very little to say. But I do wish to add that the page breaks mean that a large amount of time has passed between scenes. And since Dawn is unpredictable, I can't exactly tell you something that's going to happen next chapter.

* * *

Chapter IV: Come Home

After filming with Mara's double all day, Dawn collapsed in her chair, completely exhausted. The pink Blackberry Pearl vibrated and she groaned as she picked it up. "Hello?"

"Everyone in my lab said the card was blank, and I do mean everyone. But the words 'She will rise from the ashes and drive her usurper away' are clear. I don't know what I should do," Walden said. "You mentioned the card, so I know you know something about the writing."

"I do. I know that I can see it too. Listen, don't tell anybody else about the writing. It's been established that they can't see it," Dawn said urgently. If this weren't such a dire situation, she would have blushed at ordering an adult about so authoritatively. "Thank you," she added as an afterthought.

"It's fine. I hope you find what it is you want," Walden said. "And I thought you might like to know that there were footprints found at both crime scenes."

"_CRIME SCENES?!"_

"Yes," Walden said dryly. "When a crime is committed, such as an abduction, that area is known as a crime scene. Now, tell everyone there that Detective Amaryllis Rush is your mother and that she sent you. I've already informed her of my plan—she's an old friend of mine—and you resemble her more than anyone else."

"Det. Amaryllis Rush. Okay, thanks," Dawn repeated to remember the name. "Thanks a trillion, Officer Walden."

"Glad to be of help, and I doubt you should keep calling me Walden for much longer," Walden's smile was audible.

"And I'd be glad to help you through the investigation," Dawn replied.

"You already have."

* * *

An unusual, frail person with fiercely opalescent hazel eyes, well-shaped ears, a strong face, pixie-like features, a firm chin, and flawless rose-red mouth was found sprawled on Dawn's bed as the girl entered the room in her white nightdress. Imagine Dawn's surprise as the grin spread wide across her face.

"Calix! Calix! Mara's back!"

* * *

"You sure you had nothing to do with this, Officer Walden? Okay, bye," Dawn shut her phone off and turned to Calix with a flick of her hair. "He says he didn't have anything to do with Mara coming back and that he's going to be here ASAP, so Mara, you might want to start getting you story straight if you want Walden to get those assholes who took you away."

"Hey, that's the first time I've heard you swear for a while," Mara said. "You used to have a soap-worthy mouth, but now you hardly say 'crap.' Why?"

"Mara, stop stalling," Dawn said, a little irritated now.

"It could've been so much worse," Mara said. "But either way, this one woman took me and put me in a room by myself. There was another person. A guy. A really, um, old guy who'd shove Campbell's and cheese and stuff. Like, for me to eat."

"What about the place you were taken to? Can you describe the room?" Dawn asked as gently as she could. She took one of Mara's hands in both of hers as Calix squeezed her shoulder.

"It was a brick room. There was a, uh, sort of a window. I swear, when I looked out, there was a river of lava," Mara's hands gestured hopelessly.

"How'd you get out?" Dawn asked.

"The woman who fed me broke the lock and I hightailed it outta there," Mara said. Her eyes filled up. "I was so lonely in there."

"I know," Dawn let one of her hands drop and squeezed Mara's hand tightly. Her eyes were glassy, like they weren't focused in t this world. With a shake of her head, she half-smiled again. "I'm so glad you're back! What did you note card mean?"

"I don't know. All I remember is having the most real dream I ever had before I wrote it. Seriously, it was such a real dream. I was spitting fire. I was a dragon! But I don't know what that has to do with what I wrote," Mara's eyes filled again at the thought that she had disappointed one of her friends.

"Look, Mara was just kidnapped! You know what that's like! You can talk now because you've had weeks to deal with it. She just got back!" Calix exploded.

"You're right," Dawn stared Calix in the face. Her natural eye color started taking over her teal contacts, making her eyes a pale rose color. "Mara's isn't as strong as I am. She's much stronger. And that's why she's going to tell us what the card is."

"It was a clue. It's supposed to mean a certain word. All the words make up a phrase. And that phrase controls the volcano. But the person who made the volcano is changing it or something. It's not a normal volcano, because I was so close to the lava that I should have burned to death. But I didn't," Mara said, seemingly fortified by her best friend's belief in her.

"So it **is** a magick volcano," Dawn sighed, standing up and crossing her arms at the window.

"Magick?" Eddie and Calix looked perplexed.

"There's no way of explaining it," Dawn said, head suddenly higher. She was in her element—convincing people to believe in what she did. "The place where Callia was taken from had two sets of footprints toward the volcano. I followed it to a cavern way inside. A woman said it was too dangerous. She said she had been put in by the Rainbow Valley Rotary Club to keep people from getting burned by the lava," Dawn looked at Mara.

"Was she a green-eyed towhead?" Mara asked. Not waiting for a response, she continued. "There was another woman. Safara. She's mostly a terrific person. She's got dark brown hair that's straight but not long enough to come to her shoulder. She's so full and curved that the first woman—Jessie, I think—has to watch what she eats. And Safara's got these dark eyes. They're really dull. I think she's a little retarded."

"Then maybe she doesn't know what's really going on," Dawn said, more to organize her thoughts than to give information. The wheels in her head were visibly turning. She wondered if Safara could be persuaded to work for **her**.

"I mean, Safara kept saying the same phrase over and over, but only to me," Mara's words brought Dawn's mind back to the room. Dawn listened so carefully that she didn't even expend the energy to turn around. Every fiber of her being was tense, straining for the next few words.

'"The answers are found a mile and a half away. Fetch them if you want to save the day,'" Mara recited.

'"Fetch?' Isn't that the name of that dog park?" Calix asked.

"And isn't that exactly 1.5 miles from here?" Eddie continued.

"And don't we need a dog to get in?" Mara cautioned.

"Whose dumb idea was that?" Calix sneered.

"People without dogs and who don't know how to play with a dog go into the park to play with other people's pets and end up bitten or something," Dawn recalled the notice on the park sign. "And it's actually 1.51 miles, but that can easily be overlooked."

"What about the dog?" Mara asked. "I can't exactly ship Bentley here."

"That won't be a problem," Dawn whipped out her phone. "Hey, Angelica Mei? It's Dawn Reid. Nice to talk to you again too. Listen, I need to borrow your dog." ****

"Okay, so why do you need my dog again?" Angelica asked, following Dawn a little more closely than necessary.

"I need to find the answers here," Dawn said. Luckily for her, Eddie was more than willing to explain more fully.

"Hey, look," Calix pointed to a tiny statue. "It's Callia."

"Callia has the answers. Why am I not surprised," Dawn mumbled. Still, she called out, "Callie, it'll be okay. We've come to fetch you—whoa!"

As soon as the statue was addressed as Callie, it shook as if Callia was shaking off the stone that bound her to her post before looking at Dawn in something that resembled admiration. "Have you figured out where Ken is yet?" she asked.

"No. Just you, Mara, and I'm pretty sure I know where Varda is. The only problem is that I don't know how to get her out of there," Dawn admitted.

"Have you tried looking at where Mara was taken?"

* * *

"Can't this wait? It's Halloween," Dawn complained. Callia's stern face melted into one of mirth when she saw the light brown suit with orange stripes, sharp pin ears, and pink spots on the hands.

"Meow. Sorry, but the volcano won't go away on its own," Callia said. Her smile softened the steel in her words.

"Fine," Dawn grumbled. The yellow caution tape was still there, marking the place where the pair of footprints meandered into the woods. Not knowing what else to do, she followed it. It went toward the volcano, all the way to a second cavern hidden by dense brush.

"That's how they can get in?" Dawn scowled. "Nobody sees this route here. The stupid woman, Safara—"

Callia burst into tears, sending Dawn into shock. The last time Callia cried, she had gotten pregnant with her rapist's twin girls.

Oh.

"Safara's your daughter," Dawn pulled a Rushil. "And Jezebel, she'd be the other daughter," she circled Callia.

Callia nodded, head lowered shamefully.

"Callia, it's nothing to be ashamed—" Dawn didn't know what to say. "It wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have been out alone!"

"The worst crime in Silver Creek after I was born was a couple of trashcans getting knocked over on Halloween, and that was probably raccoon-related. Even if you agreed right up until he penetrated you, it's still his fault," Dawn said sternly. "It's still rape," she swallowed, looking down as her eyelashes fluttered rapidly above damp eyes.

Callia was about to hug Dawn when, suddenly, a deep, echoing groan vibrated the in the cavern. Ken, already crippled from having been whipped and burned during the time period Dawn would prefer to forget was now covered with deep, long cuts and infected open sores. He was pitifully skinny and looked ill. Dawn screamed his name as she helped him out.

Callia, ever practical, whipped out her phone. "911? The missing boy from Indiana has been found in the woods…" ****

"Is he—?"

"He's still alive," Jaunie Kim, a nurse, spoke. She had almost black, wavy hair like on her brow and lashes, clear black eyes, and pinched features. Although she wasn't quite pretty, there was an overwhelmed sort of beauty about her. "He shouldn't be."

"Thank goodness for large miracles," Dawn sighed in relief.

"He's been asking for you," Jaunie said.

Dawn looked perplexed as she entered Ken's rom. Rather awkwardly, she took his hand. "Hey," she gave a taut smile.

"Hi," he breathed. "There was a man. Cailean."

"Ken, you're hooked up to a respirator. Don't try to talk…wait, did you just say Cailean?" Dawn leaned forward, prepared to catch every word.

Ken told her of his last few weeks with Cailean and Jezebel, making Dawn remember. Her fingers twitched.

"_You think this is all a huge joke!?" Steve, Ken's father, was yelling as he hit his son. It felt like a sledgehammer was striking his chest. Steve punched Ken one last time in the gut and Ken grimaced in pain._

"_Stop it!" Dawn cried. "Please, hit me instead. Don't hit Ken," she rushed over to the two, breaking free from Casimir and Lilith's grip. Lilith took her again and jammed her fingers into an electric socket._


	6. Viva la Vida

"Viva la Vida" is by Coldplay. Now, we get to see why Walden is so abominably nice to Dawn to the point of hiding evidence so she can see it first. We also see Dawn moon the world at Homecoming. The second plotline is going to be shoved very blatantly in your face now, since I doubt anyone caught it in the prologue.

* * *

Chapter V: Viva la Vida

"Homecoming Court? Me? I'm just a freshman," Dawn looked at the scroll that had come in the mail.

"Dawn, you're America's Sweetheart," Mara said, reminding her friend that she was more than a pretty face.

"Right," Dawn put the paper aside. "But isn't it against the rules for a freshman to be Homecoming Queen?"

"Last time I checked, there were no rules for Homecoming Court," Mara said.

"Okay, then how's my hair?"

"It could do with a curling iron," Callia said. "Here," she pulled out a dark (for pastel) pink dress with curly white lines a soft lace hem. "Mom wore this at her first dance with Dad. I remember she hoped it would bring you luck in love."

Dawn took it with an air of distraction. In the face of mental problems very few people understood, it was very difficult to remember her mother as a woman. Was it really less than two decades ago that her mother had been right where she was, so clueless and curious? ****

"The Homecoming Ladies are…" last year's Queen read off names of two seniors and two juniors Dawn didn't know, then her name. One of the seniors got Princess, the other got Queen. And then another four seniors and one junior were named Homecoming Lords. Then one of the seniors got Prince (he was rather cute, Dawn noticed) and another got King (it was cute how he was already the Queen's boyfriend). Then the music started, and it was time for the Court to pair up with each other. Dawn, the youngest girl, caught the eye of the youngest boy—Sohan Scott—immediately. This would either be an embarrassingly awkward and clumsy moment or the start of a beautiful friendship.

Sohan had a tall figure, brown eyes, unmanageable dark hair pared on the side, and many freckles. At least, Dawn hoped they were freckles. She tripped as she made her way toward him.

Clumsy it is!

And she was so embarrassed over tripping that she didn't notice a girl step on her dress. As she danced, she remained oblivious to the fact that she was mooning the stands.

And that Samantha Silver was in those stands.

* * *

"It was embarrassing," Samantha said sternly. "You embarrassed yourself, your family, and your friends. You embarrassed me and your father," her voice got louder and louder.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Dawn protested.

"Oh, please!" Who's idea was it to wear that dress? Yours, even though I told you not to. You never listen to me!"

"Samantha," Michael said, trying to placate her. Samantha whirled around and pointed at him, beside herself with rage.

"You stop! You don't listen to either, Michael!" She turned back to Dawn and took Michael's old belt off the hook. She strapped Dawn until her back was raw with welts. N Dawn watched in horror as Samantha turned the belt around and started hitting Dawn with the metal buckle end of the belt. "You think life's so stupid?! You think you're the leader!? You think I'm a joke!?"

"Don't! I'm sorry about the dress! I'll never wear it again. Please, Mom, stop! Life isn't stupid. Don't, please!" Dawn screamed. She hated the memories the sound of that belt brought back. Samantha had heard the words Steve said in the room, and she intended to make Dawn hear it now.

"Darling, you're hurting her," Michael said what is perhaps the biggest understatement of the year.

Samantha waved the belt at Michael. "Shut up, or you'll be the one on the other end of this thing!"

Michael walked away without even looking back once. Dawn couldn't blame him…she would have done the same if it were him in her position. But she couldn't try to convince herself that she forgave Michael long because Callia took the belt out of Samantha's hands at that moment and started to whip the woman. A while later, there was the sound of sirens. Someone (three guesses who) must have called the police upon hearing Samantha's unholy yelling. Here's a hint; his name rhymes with 'cycle.' ****

"What happened?" the policewoman asked Samantha.

"This woman came in and took the belt and whipped me and my daughter!" Samantha said indignantly.

"That's not what she said," John Walden sat down in front of her.

"No! I love my daughter! That other woman is a liar and a-"

"Both she and your daughter," Walden's words dripped so much sarcasm that Samantha was afraid she's drown in it, "said that you were beating Dawn with it until Callia took it and began beating you with it."

"That ungrateful little bitch!" Samantha slammed her water cup on the table.

"That bitch is the daughter you love," Walden raised an eyebrow.

"Well, kids get on everyone's nerves sometimes, right?" Samantha said coyly.

"Not to the point where people will beat them with leather belts," Walden's voice was cold. It burned Samantha's soul. "Samantha Silver, you are under arrest for child abuse."

"That was the one time I strapped her! She can't even feel it!"

"But she could hear your comments, and the pain from those memories is something she can feel," Walden glared.

"Damn you and your one-liners to hell," Samantha muttered.

* * *

"There'll be a trial," Callia stood before Dawn as she lay on her bed.

"Why? They have all the evidence," Dawn was terrified at the thought of facing Samantha again.

"Yes, but Samantha sued," Callia said carefully, understanding Dawn's fragile mental state.

Dawn slumped in her chair. As if the year could get any worse!

* * *

"Callia?" Dawn raised her head, blinking blearily, as a tall shape entered her room that night.

"Take your nightgown off," Michael ordered.

Dawn glared at him before obeying.

"You took my wife away," Michael said with quiet fury. "I loved her!" he yelled suddenly.

"Shouldn't have let her hit me then," Dawn grit her teeth, knowing something bad was going to happen.

"It was your fault, the dress!" he shouted. His hand snaked around Dawn's breasts as if it had a mind of its own. "They didn't even arrest Callia for assaulting her," his voice had a hint of a sob in it, which didn't make Dawn pity him or hate him any less. Suddenly, his groping hand was yanked away. In fact, all of him was yanked away.

"They might arrest me for killing you if you don't _shut up_," Callia threatened in a low whisper.

Dawn immediately got back into her nightgown. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror in her room. She looked so innocent in her nightgown, mostly because it was such a girly nightdress. It was flowing white, trimmed with pink ribbons, fine lace forming the shoulder ruffles and the edges of the neck, delicate floral embroidery across the chest, and a ruffled cap edged in lace and featured pink ribbon bows. It looked so innocent that she couldn't imagine why she felt so disgusting wearing it. She didn't get much time to stare at it in wonder, however, because a kimono robe edged in ivory satin that matched the tiny posies on the soft rose satin was placed around her, and a pair of pink slippers with pretty floral embroidery was placed at her feet.

"If I'm not mistaken, I'm about to be arrested along with Michael, Walden's coming to take care of you, and you'll freeze to death out at this time of night in just your nightdress," Callia said.

* * *

Dawn sat on her bed, ignoring the police officers doing their best to avoid her. She was looking at her bed like it was the most beautiful thing in the world, which, of course, it wasn't. The white snowflake mattress was soft, there was a chenille spread edged in Cluny lace, a bed skirt edged in lace, a warm plush blanket tufted with pink ribbons, a soft pink pillow edged in ribbons and lace, and a soft and ruffled throw pillow with an azalea sewn on the front. On this was the one place Dawn could stop being grown up, could start crying. On a ridiculously lacy bed, what else would one feel like doing? The only part of the bed not drenched in lace was the curvy Victorian headboard.

As people like to know where they are at all times, as you do tend to risk getting lost and never finding your way back home and therefore starving to death, I won't deny you that right. Beside the bed was a smooth white commode with a glossy white finish and fancy brass fittings. On top of that was a ceramic bowl with flowers painted on the sides, filled with candies wrapped in pink and gold and purple foil. There was, unfortunately, a lace-edged towel folded neatly between the candy dish and a photo of Dawn in a fancy silver dress embroidered with flowers and wide, satiny bows with her silvery-blonde hair almost as long as the embroidered skirt and leaning on a fake mountainside against a background of sunlit forest. The floor was a plush carpet featuring a design of several roses. There were posters on the pink walls—"End the Darfur Genocide," proclaimed a green one; a "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" poster autographed by "Cedric"; one of a unicorn rearing up beside a rainbow against a sunset backdrop; and a "Save the Whales, Save the World" posters that had been autographed by Hayden Panettiere.

Allow me to, if you will, go back to the photo of Dawn. She looked stick-thin, frail, especially with that silver pendant. The pendant with the white pearl surrounded by two rings of single-carat diamonds. The pendant she had so stupidly given to Samantha to pawn for a lawyer.

"Dawn?" Walden asked gently.

"Yeah?" Dawn faced him, eyes glassy and blank.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She did.

* * *

"What hotel are you staying at?" Walden asked once Dawn had finished telling her story.

Dawn blinked. "What?"

"Well, you can't exactly go home," the ghost of a smile touched Walden.

Dawn had the grace to blush. "Good point. It's rented out to homeless people. Besides, Callia gets out in two days. I can wait till then." She stared at him.

"Say it. I won't hit you."

"You're a stranger," Dawn burst out. She bit her lip like she regretted her outburst, but she looked him in the eye as soon as she decided that her complaint was just. "You _were_ a stranger when we first met and nobody bothered to take me home because they thought I was your daughter and then I needed a place to stay and I was a ward of the state of New York and you were a police chief and you took me in and you never did anything but help me and then whenever I was in trouble you crossed state lines to help in any way you could and to make sure I was okay and no one else has ever helped me unless it was for a favor and I know I'm using too many ands and it'll be a miracle if you understand a word I say but I can't help it and I really need to know why you help me. I mean, it sure ain't for the pay. Like, having you not show anyone the note in Ken's room. That was against the law, and even I know it!," she bit her lip again, afraid that she had offended him.

"It isn't for the good hours either, but I think I do understand what you say," Walden said lightly. There was a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at the clock with different types of rabbits rather than numbers on the wall. "Yes, I did it for myself," Walden said as if he had suddenly come to a decision. "I spent my childhood doing things I'll go to my grave regretting. A girl you look more like every day helped me help those that I hurt. Before she died, she said I'd wake up and find a girl I could either take care of or we'd never meet again. You."


	7. Unwell

Dawn's going back to visit Ken, and I make references to the past again. "Unwell" is by Matchbox Twenty. Yes, I stole an entire scene from BtVS, if you're smart enough to catch it. I'm not saying the rest of you aren't smart, though. I'm saying...oh, heck, just kill me now!

* * *

Chapter VI: Unwell

_The world was spinning in lazy circles. Although her hands were burning, they were also terribly cold._

_The next hard kick to Ken's stomach took his breath away. Steve struck him square in the face. Ken felt his arms and chest sting as if they were on fire._

"_This is all your fault!" Steve spat at Dawn. "And it's your fault, you little twerp, that your little _girlfriend_ is getting electrocuted. Apologize to her," he demanded to Ken._

_Ken had enough energy to gasp for air._

"_Apologize before I…"Steve held up a chainsaw, of all things, and put it near Dawn's leg just close enough for her to feel the speed at which it whirled._

"_Dawn! Dawn! I'm sorry!"_

"Ken, Ken," Dawn shook her head. "I'm sorry I couldn't help."

"Lilith shoved you in an electric socket. I don't know how you _could_'ve helped," Ken gave Dawn's arm a week squeeze. If one looked at a particular feature of Dawn's, namely her eyes, they could always tell what she was thinking about.

"So, what was in your note card?" Dawn asked.

"It was a word in a phrase. It's a riddle," Ken said. He was clearly losing his fight against unconsciousness.

Dawn seemed to come to a decision, not taking her eyes off Ken once. "Ken, I need you to do something for me," she said seriously.

"Anything," Ken breathed, eyes struggling to stay open.

"I need you to focus on getting better. I need you to let me solve this whole card crud without worrying about you rushing through treatment to help me. And before you protest," she added, "I have known you for such a long time, and you've always dropped everything if I asked for your help. I can't let you do that anymore. I know you like to play hero, but I know how to be my own hero."

Ken turned his swollen face toward her and smiled. "Card crud? Whatever happened to your favorite c-word?"

"You don't say it," Dawn half-whined. "And besides, some things go beyond four-letter words."

"Yeah?" Ken stared right into Dawn's eyes, and she stared back.

They say that, when you look into the eyes of your soul mate, you can see all the generations you will…er, produce.

Dawn Reid couldn't see next Wednesday, only partly because her left eye was swollen shut.

Ken closed his eyes and fell asleep. Dawn dropped his hand and left. She brushed her hair back behind her peach-pink ears.

"How is he?" Callia asked.

"Great," Dawn said. "Doesn't seem like he's lost any brain cells. He said our names just right. He gave us details of the cards, but no answers. Only one thing's for sure—figuring out the words in," she took the note cards from her pocket, "these are now the most important things. They form a phrase which should make the volcano disappear. Everyone who's come back say it will. And with all the magick that's happened, what else can I do but believe it?" Dawn sighed.

"Why do you need to believe it?" Mara asked.

"I was raised to believe that magick doesn't exist," Dawn swallowed. "Now that it does, it makes me question everything else I've ever believed in too. I need something to believe in, so it might as well be something that seems to be good for my sister and this entire island," Dawn shrugged. "A least I think it's for this whole island's good. I don't know what to believe in."

"It'll be alright, Dawn. We have you," Dawn was astonished. Callia had never complimented her. Not in a way to suggest that she relied on Dawn, at least.

"But I don't even know where to start with the phrase, Dawn protested.

Callia looked at Dawn—or, more specifically, at her shiner—and said, "We need to get that out of the way so we can talk about your eye."

"I can see fine…oh," Dawn blushed. She would have to start reading people better soon if she wanted to weasel her way out of this. ****

"_Stop!" Dawn screamed. Her fingers were smoking at the tips. Casimir tried to intervene, but was pushed away._

_Lilith took out an electric cattle prod. One shock on the back of the neck, and Dawn gave up. She was unconscious. There was a large, bleeding burn, but there was also nerve damage on the back of her neck which would be there forever._

When Dawn opened the door, her spine had tensed. The lights were humming in tune to the blood pulsing on the back of her neck. She cursed her sensitivity to electricity. At least it wasn't like she would have a seizure if she touched a computer. The worst it ever became was her being able to walk past a room and tell if there was, say, a T.V. on. Dawn sighed. She would be desperately unhappy tonight and extremely cranky the next morning if she had to be all alone with her nightmares. She pulled out her phone and dialed her life line. "Hey, Ken." ****

"Hello?" Callia held the LG camera phone to her ear. "Yes, this Calantha. What's up, Jaunie?"

"Ken isn't healing. Not at all. He keeps calling for Dawn. Can she come here quick? He seemed to calm down when she was here before," Jaunie pleaded. 'If I lose a patient, I can't intern here anymore, and I'll be nowhere then."

"Alright. I'll tell D—Judge Ratner, get me my lingerie."

"Why are you sleeping with a judge?" Jaunie asked.

"I do what I can to save my sister from them," Callia said. "You saw the black eye. You saw the injuries. You know what her parents did to her."

"Yes I do. Good luck," Jaunie hung up.

* * *

_Ken twisted the raw places where the rope bit into his skin so that they'd rub elsewhere. Steve and Lilith tossed him in the bathtub filled with scalding water and he thrashed as hard as he could. The only parts of him not throbbing and burning were his shoulders. Air exploded from his longs and his jaw slammed into his chest. Finally, as he was on the verge of passing out from the lack of oxygen, he was pulled out by none other than Dawn, with Hanna standing behind her. He took a deep breath, but pain stabbed at his chest as a warning. He saw a single white bone jutting out from his rib area. The thick taste of blood filled his mouth and choked him. He coughed, causing pain to rip at his chest and throat. The lumpy ground he was laid on hurt. Every breath and movement tortured him. Waves of pain wracked his body. At each agonizing wave, he struggled not to whimper and alert Lilith and Steve that he was still alive. He tried to lick his lips to cool them, but the pain instantly made him stop. With horror, he realized that he had bitten his tongue off at some point. When Dawn finally untied him, his stomach began to cramp and he winced. Dawn stood back as he convulsed and vomited. The torturous pain made black patches dance across his vision._

"_Steve does build his tortures cunningly," Dawn said, disgusted._

"_The hurt?" Hanna whispered, not taking her eyes off Ken, yet not daring to go toward him either._

"_The hope," Dawn turned toward her and turned back quickly._

"Ken?"

"Yes?" Ken opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"You can't get better?"

"I'm not getting better. There's a difference.

Dawn considered him queerly and got up decisively. "I'll get Mara here to talk to you, but I need to start getting to the bottom of this."

"Good luck," Ken said slowly.

* * *

Mara came in with a plate stacked with sweet potatoes fresh off the barbecue.

"Thanks Mara. Okay, Callia, where do we start?" Dawn asked as she took the plate, laid it on a part of the desk between her and Callia, and started to peel one to eat.

"I'll read a phrase from a card, you write down all the words it could mean, and we go from there."

"Okay."

"Justice will always find evil."

"Um, just, retribution, triumph, fairness, equitable, and defeat."

"Well, I think only just, fair, and equitable make sense. Just means justice has been served. Equitable means equal to all parties. And fair means free from favors, prejudice, and self-interest," Callia said.

"The way you say in, fair seems like the best one."

By next week, the phrase was complete, mostly.

"Fair ruler magick fly. What are we missing?" Dawn asked. ****

"What word have we missed?" Callia sighed.

"Maybe we've been thinking too hard," Dawn snapped in such an icy manner that the temperature in the room may have actually dropped. "We've been looking at this so long, and we've only thought one way. Maybe we've need to look at it a different way."

Callia bolted up, looking frightened. "Any ideas?"

"The word is absent from my speech."

"Listen to yourself. Could you say it another way?"

"'Course," Dawn bowed and found there was something familiar. She couldn't quite place her finger it though. "But why me?"

"Why you what?" Callia looked like she expected to be punished.

"Why am I the one who has to solve this riddle? Why couldn't you have bugged Varda or Mara? I've never seen you talk to them about solving the riddle!" Dawn stood. "I'm sick of all this. I've been blowing off a lot of stuff just so I can help you with this, everyone hates me because I keep flaking off plans for you, and I hate everyone hating me. So tell me why I'm giving everything up, or I'm not giving them up anymore."

"Have you noticed that Mara has an odd ability now? One that she hasn't had before?" Callia said as she picked up her barbecued sweet potato.

"No."

"Here's a hint—the sweet potatoes you've eaten were barbecued by her."

Dawn nearly choked.

"_Hiya Dawn! Thanks for coming to my birthday sleepover. Come on, we're about to start the movie. Here's popcorn. My very own recipe!" Mara said._

"_You pushed the button marked 'Popcorn,' right?" Dawn asked._

"_Actually, I pushed 'Defrost,' but Varda rescued me," Mara blushed._

"She can cook. She can cook well," Dawn savored her sweet potato. Her eyes snapped open. "Why?"

"Anything different about Ken?"

"Jaunie said his injuries should have killed him already."

"And me?"

"You—I had to come up with the answers. You…relied on me. And I wasn't pushed in an impatient way, like you don't know the answer either," Dawn looked at the paper with the phrase on it floated to the ground. She looked around for an open window, but there were none. What breeze had made the paper fall?

"Dawn, Mara has control over an element. So does Mara, Ken, I, and now you."

"Like, really?" Dawn stopped breathing.

"Yup. So were Bill and Kitty," Callia's eyes shone.

"Mara barbecued the sweet potatoes. She's always been a pyromaniac. So it's Fire. And Ken…Light, because he is purely good, no hidden agenda. Varda…is so concerned with nature. She lives in a wooden house, uses hemp toys for her pets, and she's vegan. So she must be Earth. You…you used to be light because light clarified things like you do now. Mommy…was close, but very cold, so I don't know."

"There are 7 elements total: Fire, Light, something we still can't figure out called Antimatter, Air, Darkness, and Water."

"Well, Darkness is like death, and no one knows what it is. Mommy…I can just see her using it. And nobody knows what Antimatter is, so I either have that or…" Dawn looked at the paper. "I'm air."


	8. Apologize

"Apologize" is also by OneRepublic. By the way, you will never know anything unless Dawn knows it too, and Dawn isn't the brightest of people. I'm not good with author's notes, so I think I'll just skip them. Wait! I don't have a single disclaimer anywhere in here, do I? Crap! Well, here goes nothing.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

That oughtta do it.

* * *

Chapter VII: Apologize

"So, if there are only four elementals now, who has the other two? I mean, three," Dawn stumbled.

"Jezebel is Water and Darkness. Cailean is Antimatter, but after the volcano's gone, we can give the magick to someone else."

"The volcano is the source of their power?"

"For now, yes."

"Who do we give the magick to?"

"Who's the best swimmer?"

"Calix," Dawn said immediately. "There's no comparison."

"Exactly. Who has the darkest thoughts and feelings?"

"Sam." There was no question that Sam, Mara's brother, was the most depressing and evil person on the face of the earth who could actually befriend the ever-chipper Dawn. He was mostly a tool everyone else used to calm Dawn down after she had coffee, but he thought about things so much that everyone knew he was the person to go to for advice.

"And who's the most mysterious?"

"You!" Dawn said, simply because she didn't know this girl who had replaced Callie so quickly.

"Me? Okay," Callia didn't ask a single question about Dawn's judgment.

"Why do you all of a sudden trust me?" Dawn tipped her head to one side.

"What's your IQ?" Callia asked.

"That's better," Dawn relaxed. Her cynical, strong sister was back.

"_You actually want to take an IQ test?" Varda asked with one eyebrow raised._

"_Well, you're a psychiatrist. You know how to measure intelligence," Dawn said._

"_I only know how to measure surface knowledge, not wisdom."_

"_Okay, then do surface knowledge."_

_About a week later, Dawn received her score in the mail. Her IQ, 149, was printed in big bold numbers, and beside and was a chart titled "See how you compare!"_

_0: You are an inanimate object_

_1-30: You are extremely retarded_

_31-60: You are moderately retarded_

_61-90: You are slightly retarded_

_91-120: You are average_

_121-149: You are gifted_

_150+: You are a genius_

_Dawn couldn't help it—she burst out laughing._

"It should be 70, but it's very high in comparison, isn't it? I'll be very surprised if your IQ isn't at least twice what it's supposed to be," Callia crossed her arms

"XXX Syndrome," it…well, dawned, on Dawn. "I always thought I was just gifted for XXX," she raised her head. "What makes m different?"

"The fact that you were raised Air, but born Light," Callia said.

"_Callia, I can't find that rose," Pearlie ran downstairs, panicking. "I'm turning 4. I need it for the party!"_

"_Here's something better," Callie took out a pink nacre hear locket on a clear string with tiny, but perfectly round pearls on it. "Don't lose it." she accidentally nudged something off Pearlie's head, and it clattered to the ground. The white gold circlet had a filigree heart on the front and glittered even when stationary._

"_Bill and Kitty won't even consider that you're too young to wear something this magickal," Callie grumbled._

Dawn gently, reverently took the circlet off her head and fingered it. "Wow," was all she could say. "I never even felt it. But it's called Light for a reason!"

"Yeah," Callia chuckled. She looked up and sighed sadly. "I should have told you before."

"Neither of us are too good with the total honesty policy," Dawn smiled and froze. "Of! That's the word no one has said! It would have been my word for my phrase, but I was never taken, so it was simply never there!"

* * *

"What are you doing?" Jezebel narrowed her eyes. "Doing what should've been done three months ago," Dawn said.

Jezebel snorted. "Good luck," she said sarcastically.

"No!" Cailean came out and roared. "The incantation is nearly complete! Get her out of here!"

Jezebel surrounded Dawn with a cocoon of water, but Dawn didn't have to breathe. She could have air go directly into her lungs. Still, she had to make Jezebel release her, if not so that Dawn won't starve to death, then for the sake of shutting down whatever this volcano was doing. How? What would make Jezebel respond to her most? What motivated Jezebel? Well, she had invested a large amount of magickal energy in to this volcano, so there must be something she wanted to destroy this island for?

Dawn had been very public about the movie being filmed in Rainbow Valley, hoping to give the dying little village some tourist traffic. It was very possible that Jezebel had come to attack her directly. It wouldn't be the first time somebody wanted to kill Dawn Reid. But why would Jezebel, who had never known Dawn and therefore would never have been hurt by her, wish Dawn dead? Well, Safara, Jezebel, and Cailean were masters of two elements each until the people they kidnapped to try to get to Dawn took some of the powers. But Dawn had always had the Wind and some Light. Okay, so Dawn had figured out that the Stantons wanted her power. But why? What did they want to be masters of the world for? This wasn't a 4th-grade fantasy novel. This was real life, where people don't want power unless it filled a psychological need. Everything was a piece to the grand puzzle that was life, said Kitty. And then it became so blindingly obvious that Dawn wanted to slap herself.

"Please, Jezebel! I know you want a mother. I want a mother too! But forcing someone to love you just isn't right!" Dawn yelled. It occurred to her that Samantha and Michael's attempts to manipulate her into loving them were wrong as well.

Jezebel hesitated before she made the cocoon so thick, it was soundproof. But she hadn't reckoned with the power of the incantation.

"Fair ruler of magick, fly!"

A brown dragon rose from the lava and the entire volcano began to make the sound of a dying cow. It was materializing and dematerializing like that blue telephone box from that show Callia loved.

"I'm about to kill this present for _my_ present," Cailean said gleefully.

Dawn felt crushed until she suddenly realized her clothes were dry again. She turned to Jezebel, which was now a large pile of rock with things sticking out of it. Maybe people expanded when they died, because there were enough rocks to cover Dawn up. Well, Dawn was only 4'4" and 74 pounds, so she could have fit just about anywhere she wanted to. Unfortunately, there was no place near to fit into by the time Dawn realized that Cailean was alive.

"No!" Cailean let out a long, anguished holler and slammed something on the ground. His eyes shone with tears. "My Jessie!"

Dawn swallowed. It was unreal, seeing a rapist as _human_. She didn't have to think about Cailean's humanity for long, however, as he waved a small club-like stick or a staff. "Any last words?" he snarled.

Dawn swallowed. It occurred to her that she may actually die. Anything she would ever feel, experience, love (or hate), would already have been. Her life flashed before her eyes, just like all the books said, concluding with the sight of Cailean's eyes smoldering with hate. "Can I just leave, please?" she asked meekly, trying to dredge up whatever human connection she had with Cailean.

Cailean opened his mouth and something funny happened. Time slowed so that every second could be felt, propelling her forward. She felt like she was standing directly in front of Cailean, yet behind herself, watching herself watch Cailean. She couldn't feel a thing except time. And then Dawn had two simultaneous epiphanies. One was her life sucked and it wasn't the one she wanted, the other was that she was glad for the idea that just came to her.

Last words ring in the ears of the beholder forever.

"Evil tyrant of corruption, vanish!"

And he did.

Dawn could hardly breathe at first. Then it occurred to her that a puff of warm air was being blown on her arm. She should have wondered where the dragon had gone, a thought that only came to her as she calmly turned and met a pair of shining chestnut eyes.

"Varda?" she whispered.

The brown dragon, scales shining like liquid gold in the sun, turned into the shape of the girl Dawn missed so much.

"Let's go," Varda said.

'Let's," Dawn managed before she fell forward, crushed by stress.

* * *

"Did you take any of the objects?" Callia asked.

"No. I didn't know what they did," Dawn said shyly. "Besides, it was all of five seconds before Varda. So what?"

Callia looked at Dawn almost pityingly. "Even elementals can't fully perform magick just by will alone. They need instruments. Tokens, if you will."

"No, I won't," Dawn said cheekily.

Callia actually laughed. "That last phrase was something that will keep Cailean out of your line of vision forever. He cannot do anything that you will see."

"So I could walk right up to where he is now and he would be gone?" dawn was surprised. "Where is he?"

"Somewhere in Bangladesh without his powers. And now the element distribution process begins," Callia laughed. She looked, for the first time in her life, like she had nothing to worry about.

"So now we get to be world renowned? Or at least community renowned?" Dawn bubbled, excited and happy. All of a sudden, she stopped and looked thoughtful. "How does one get renowned anyway? Do they have to be nowned first?" she questioned the English language.

"Yes, first there is the torturously painful nowning process," Mara said with a comically straight face.

At "painful," everyone thought of Ken again.

"I'm gonna visit him," Dawn said, sort of sliding off the seat like a limp dishrag falling off a table, forgotten.

Callia's voice couldn't have frozen hell over. "First, I am getting you out of Samantha and Michael's custody."

Oddly enough, Dawn was not terrified anymore. She felt empowered, like she could move mountains, like she could take on the world, like she was worth something. None of those feelings had anything to do with the fact that she knew her sister had slept with the judge, of course. *Wink.*

"Callia, Brenda and I will win this," Dawn pledged.

"Let's hope you're right," Callia said. "Let's hope you're right." She dialed Brenda, the most competent lawyer she knew.

Five seconds later, Callia was told that her appeal had been denied.

* * *

"_The house is a mess," Samantha's voice was cold._

_Dawn trembled. "I…locked up the cats. When I let them out-"_

"_Stop your BS, you little freak. There was a party here, wasn't there?" Samantha's shrill voice shattered any semblance of well-being Dawn had._

"_Well, yes," Dawn said. Almost before she finished, she felt the world spin and a vibration her cheek, like pins and needles, when Samantha slapped her. Dawn fell on the carpet, felling her knees beginning to swell almost imperceptibly._

"Maybe that was what was off," Callia mused.

"What?" Dawn stared blankly, trying to come back from her daydreams.


	9. What Hurts the Most

"What Hurts the Most" is by Rascal Flatts. I think I spelled their name right. i speling and gramer iz gud

I understand that Callia sleeping with a judge to win favor seems evil, but nobody's perfect. Sorry if you don't like it. You can pretend it didn't happen if you want.

Oh, and "Lolita" is a reference to a story where a man falls in love with a much younger girl. In this case, Callia means "Does Dawn looked enough like an innocent little girl?" Sorry if it's upsetting.

* * *

Chapter VIII: What Hurts the Most

"Well, look. You wore a cream eyelet bodysuit with pearlescent buttons that scream sea urchin, a turquoise wrap skirt that complimented the whole 'prostitute,' theme, and if pleather boots with lace aren't suggestive, I haven't been a fashion designer long enough," Callia said. "You need a helpless, young look to get the jury to think you need to be protected. I'm aware that we're about to take shameless advantage people, but we don't really have a choice."

"How are we pulling off the damsel in distress look?" Dawn asked unhappily. She had just been her own hero; she didn't need someone to take that away.

"Easy—curls and pink clothing. And maybe lace. If the make-up artists here can make you look like a 7-year old when you're 15, then I can at least make you look 10 or 11," Callia looked determined.

Now, Dawn was absolutely frightened. She liked to play dress-up with her dolls sometimes, when she was afraid and needed something comfortably familiar, but never when she was the doll.

* * *

Callia took the sausage and orange juice with a tire yawn. "I had to draw the dress last night _and_ make it. Does it look Lolita enough?"

The dress was a bubblegum pink with a lacy collar, lacy sleeves, and a lacy hem. Dawn hoped there would be a mistrial declared if she showed up wearing that, because surely she would be the laughingstock of the village.

"Now the curler," Callia grabbed it. "Mara, get the hair bow, the shoes, and the white tights. Thank you for listening to me and bleaching your hair last night, Dawn. The bleach makes your hair thinner. Less curling for me."

Callia was a strong soul with a moral code she would follow if it killed her. Mara wanted to be her someday, and that's why she obeyed.

After getting her hair done, Dawn had on a pink bow with a rhinestone heart at the center, polished white shoes with pink satin bows, a pair of white tights with a hem around mid-butt length (the tights weren't made for girls her age), and silky curls that cascaded past her shoulders like a waterfall of white gold.

"Hmm, a bit more dressy even," Callia said. "No eye makeup, Mara. That's just for whores. Maybe some lip gloss and nail polish, though," she grabbed tangerine lip gloss, an iridescent nail polish, and applied both expertly. The one ting one could never say to Callia was that she didn't do something right. If she was told to do anything, she'd do it perfectly. She just rarely ever obeyed if somebody told her to do something.

Whatever Dawn may have feared about her dress-up doll game, they were soothed as soon as she entered the courtroom. People looked a lot more sympathetic. The drug test came out clean except for high levels of prescription Ritalin, and Dawn excused that easily. Now there was only the breathless pre-trial to endure through.

* * *

"Why can't we take care of our own daughter?" Samantha demanded.

"Because I filed a complaint of child abuse before and she is now in the custody of the state. All I need is for the doctors to confirm what I know already, and Dawn will no longer have to be your daughter," Callia said viciously.

"You can't do that! We are churchgoing people!" Samantha argued.

"On the contrary, ma'am, I back her decision. Looking at her therapist's notes and comparing them to my notes, we have enough evidence to prove that Dawn is a textbook case of abuse. She's unsure, uncomfortable, and, most importantly, in desperate need of a new home," Jaunie said. ****

"Docket #4774, Dawn Silver vs. Samantha and Michael Silver," the judge droned, "on the indictments of physical, mental, and sexual abuse."

"Your Honor, given the disgusting nature of the crime, the prosecution sets bail at $100,000."

"Your Honor, my clients have never physically struck the prosecutor. Also, most of the Silvers' money belonged to Dawn as she was the sole family member who had a job and as all assets have been frozen-"

"Enough!" said the judge who was not Ratner. "Making a minor financially responsible for an entire family alone is abuse. Bail is set at $100,000." ****

"The prosecution calls for Dawn Silver's testimony before the court," Brenda said with some misgivings about the way the judge stared at her breasts.

Dawn was so pale that Brenda put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but relaxed quickly when she noticed it was Brenda.

"Just tell the truth," Brenda said. "Now, have your parents taken care of you?"

"What do you mean?" Dawn asked.

"Do they make you eat your veggies and get home by 10:00, things like that," Brenda said sweetly.

"Yes."

"Do they call for you to do something at home, like your chores or to answer a phone call?"

"Of course," Dawn reveled at saying "of."

"Do they refer to you by name or a pet name when they call for you?"

"Sometimes."

"Can you clarify?"

"Um, well," Dawn tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Usually at home, they call me 'you' or something like that. But at stuff like parties, they don't call me anything unless I'm being introduced, and then they'll say my full name."

"Have they ever referred to you as a 'freak' or something along that nature?"

"Yes," Dawn squirmed.

"Have you ever felt uncomfortable around your parents to the point where you feared for your safety?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

Dawn squirmed. She hated being on the stand. "Every now and then, you know?" she rotated her wrist in the gesture of helplessness.

"No, I don't know," Brenda said without any sort of emotion.

"Like, if I broke a dish or something, since I _am_ really clumsy, or if I had a party and didn't clean up, then Mom might slap me or push me or something," Dawn met Samantha's eyes and faltered.

"Does your mother slap you often?" Brenda asked. She turned to where Dawn was looking and turned to Ratner. "Prosecution asks that the defense be moved outside the room for the duration of the interrogation."

"Objection!" Paul Robinette, the defense lawyer, injected. "Defense has a right to know the extent of the charges against them."

"That's why you can come back after you escort your clients away. Interrogation will resume after Samantha and Michael Silver are removed from the room," Ratner banged his gavel.

Paul had to argue.

"You won't let them take our daughter away, right? She means the world to Samantha. Sure, we've given her swats when she's deserved them, but-"

"But nothing, you liar. You told the court while we set bail that you have never struck Dawn in her life. Are you renouncing your statement now?" Ratner asked.

The Silvers were led out without any further complaint.

"Yes, she did slap me. A lot, I mean."

"Earlier, you said that your mother pushed you. Did she do that often, or hard, or into things?"

"Well, she didn't do it very often. I was usually shoved so that I'd slide on the carpet," Dawn said. "But like, when she slapped me, I'd fall and spin around because of the force."

"The jury should now be receiving copies of People's Exhibit C. These are Dawn's friction burns from sliding on the carpet," Brenda said to the court. To Dawn again, she asked, "Have they done anything else that you would consider unusual in the physical sense?"

"Well," Dawn squirmed and nodded almost imperceptibly. "Mom had me take nude naps with her. And Dad would sometimes rub his hands over my stomach, my back, my arms, my legs, my…"she swallowed. "My butt."

"Were there ever penetrations?" Brenda asked.

Dawn looked straight at her, panicked. "_No_! Never!"

"Have they ever beaten you?" asked Brenda.

"Only before they were my parents," Dawn said.

"Why did they beat you?" Brenda asked.

Dawn looked down. "I was in a-" she cleared her throat. "I was in their gang."

"And was beating a part of this gang?"

"No," Dawn shook her head vigorously. "We were all about peace. I never got hit except that one time, and I never saw anyone else get hit either."

"So no one beat you if they ever saw you do something against gang code?"

"There was no real gang code," Dawn looked confused.

"How did you get involved in this gang?"

"Objection! Relevance?" Paul asked.

"Maybe if you let her answer the question," Brenda glared at him with laser eyes, "she could give you some answers."

"Overruled. Witness will answer the question," Ratner said.

"I was walking through the park after school and felt my backpack was too heavy, so I sat down on an bench and decided to rest for a bit. And I guess I must have been asleep, because I woke up to the sound of gunshots. And this guy was running from a girl who was firing at him. He picked me up and carried me while he ran, and I was so unaware that I didn't even know that I was shot. But he brought me somewhere and fixed me up and since the girl had already seen me go with them, the boy knew that she would think I was a member and I would be targeted by that rival gang. So I was basically initiated for protection."

"Did the initiation involve violence?"

"No. It was just an 'okay, you're in now,' sort of thing."

"Why were you beaten?"

"Well, Samantha and Michael liked to…do things with some girls, and I tried to stop them, and they didn't like it."

"No more questions, Your Honor," Brenda left.

Paul came up. "Dawn, have either of your parents spanked you?"

"Yes."

"Do you count that as part of the alleged abuse?" Paul asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Objection, relevance?" Brenda stood up.

"I am determining the witness' competence in court, Your Honor," Paul said.

"Overruled," Judge Ratner said with a bang of his gavel.

"I don't believe corporal punishment is ever required to deal with a situation," Dawn's voice was stronger now.

"Are you qualified to make such an assumption, Miss Silver?" Paul asked.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I needed a PhD in psychology before having an opinion on parenting," Dawn said without smiling, which made the audience laugh just a little bit. "Besides, I am one of many who agree with the ideas of doctors more qualified than you who make such _assumptions_, as you call them."

"But you are the one in contempt of court, Miss Silver. Not them," Paul said.

"Objection!" Brenda said. She walked up to the stand with Paul.

"I am trying to prove witness incompetency," said Paul.

"By trying to lie outright? Dawn has been extremely cooperative given that her life has just been turned upside-down, and the only one in contempt of court is you, Paul," Brenda hissed.

"Sustained. Jury will disregard that last remark and it will be struck from the record," Ratner banged his gavel and winked at Callia.

Dawn felt physically sick. If she lost, she would have let her sister make such a sacrifice for nothing.


	10. White Flag

Wrapping up this saga of a girl's freshman year (I tried to avoid school because, let's face it, there are enough books about a teenager navigating their way through life in high school without me adding to it.) "White Flag" is by Dido. A lot happens in this chapter, and there are some references to the beginning of this story to show you how much Dawn has changed as a result of what has happened. And I shoved a little reminder of what's to come in Dawn's love life.

* * *

Chapter IX: White Flag

"Miss Silver, if you are ordered to go back to your parents, would you?" Paul asked with a slight break in his voice.

"I wouldn't have a choice," Dawn said.

"So you do not know that you can repeal? How much do you know about law, Miss Silver?" asked Paul.

"Objection, relevance?"

"Witness competency to stand trial, Your Honor."

"You've been doing that for the last hour and a half. Get to the point," Ratner said. "Witness will answer the question."

"I know I don't know much about law, Mr. Robinette, but the psychologist hired to judge my competency gave me two thumbs up," Dawn said.

"Do you parents treat you well? They make sure you're home on time, eat right, get good grades, and don't do drugs?"

"I highly doubt that they know my birthday, let alone my curfew. They won't know if I ate lunch, let alone what I ate if I had eaten. And they don't know the names of any of my teachers, never mind what my grades are."

"No further questions, Your Honor," Paul left quickly.

"Prosecution calls for the taped recording of psychologist Varda Swan," said Brenda. "We will also request the documents she wrote on Dawn Silver."

"The jury members all have a copy of People's Exhibit Q?" asked Ratner. At the affirmative mumblings, he nodded at Brenda to press play.

"Can Dawn Silver stand trial?" Brenda asked in the tape.

"Yes. She is fully ready to go to court. She understands the charges and knows right from wrong in a way that's very mature for her age," Varda said.

"Based on your expert and professional opinion, is Dawn faking the abuse?"

"Dawn is either a better actress that Mary Pickford or truly being abused," Varda answered.

"Objection," Paul said in the present. "Swan and Silver are the same age. How can Swan determine competency."

"Miss Swan entered an Ivy League college when she was nine, graduated a year later, and holds the five years of psychotherapy practice under her belt," Brenda said.

"But Miss Swan is Miss Silver's friend. I want an unbiased psychologist to test her," said Paul.

"Motion granted. Where is Liz Olivet?" Ratner demanded.

* * *

"Competent," Olivet said.

* * *

"When do they resume trial?" Dawn asked.

"Next week. Plenty of time to do the homework I brought for you. It's my way of saying that I hope this all works out," Mara said.

"Chocolate says that better," Dawn muttered.

"I did all of it for you. All you gotta do is sign your name," Mara said.

"Chocolate means nothing to me, honey!" Dawn said loudly.

* * *

"A 7-year old wasn't the only one hurt in that case, Ben," Paul looked down as he met with his old friend in his house. "Dawn…she was so innocent."

"The things we don't do cause us to make up for them later on, and then we often regret it," Stone sighed.

"Dawn actually came up to me and said she understood what I was doing for her parents. She actually told to me to try to get them a lighter sentence. She told me that they suffered before. And I tell you, Ben, my heart broke. The sight of that little girl, asking to forgive those who hurt her…will we ever achieve that kind of wisdom?"

"Maybe she can teach us both," Ben got up and went away. He wanted to be with his girlfriend tonight.

* * *

"On the three counts of the indictment, how does the jury find?" asked Ratner.

"We, the jury, find Samantha and Michael Silver guilty on all counts of child abuse, sexual harassment of a minor, and emotional abuse of a child," said a woman Dawn didn't want to say looked like a strained plum. Actually, she did want to say 'like a strained plum.' But she didn't.

"Dawn Silver is now in custody of the state of…Indiana?" Ratner read the statement with some shock.

"I'm native to Indiana, Your Honor. I just moved here to film a movie," Dawn said. "And you should have seen the antics off-screen. They would have thrown everyone in jail. Especially when I shoved the lima bean up Calix's nostril-"

"She's with me," Mara and Varda both said.

"And what about the lovely lady over here?" Ratner motioned to Callia.

"She's been taking care of me. She reported the abuse, actually. I'm really grateful for her," Dawn smiled up at 7'-Callia.

"Would you like to be a ward o Calantha Reid?" Ratner asked. "She'll be a legal guardian, not a parent."

"Very much," Dawn smiled.

"I don't have the means to support you," Callia reminded when the trial was over. "I've got no steady job," she sounded ashamed.

"Judging by the shame in your voice, that won't be the case for long," Dawn said in her I'm-so-clever tone.

"I have quite a few friends in Miami, where I'm headed next week," Ratner said. "I can get you're a job in law."

"Law. I'd have to do a bit of studying," Callia frowned.

"Varda's studied law," Dawn said.

"Varda's studied everything."

"I've never studied rapping," Varda said with a straight a face as she could.

"You actually study that?" Dawn put on an expression of exaggerated shock. She caught her reflection in the mirror and saw real beauty—courage. Funny how one thing can make another thing beautiful. Outside, even the dew on the grass seemed beautiful, so glitteringly iridescent.

* * *

"So, how long are the Silvers going away for?" Dawn asked when Callia came in and hung her coat on the rack.

"Eight months. But they can never adopt you again," Callia took off the tie.

"Ken's parents got, like, no time. Steve and Lilith Tully should have rotted in hell for what they did. Well, okay, Lilith was crazy, but Steve was just sadistic. Just 'cause he's a world war two vet don't mean he's all that great."

"Well, his idolized older brother is considered AWOL, whatever that means. Varda didn't quite teach me legal terminology of…well, _any_thing," Callia dropped her hat on the chair. She joked around now. Even though she had lost everything she had worked for before she "died," she seemed lighter. Dawn wondered why people only complained when they knew things could be so much worse. She supposed it was because they were usually too busy to keep it from being worse or making it better to complain. Or they had lost all hope of living and were simply waiting for death. Dawn shuddered at the thought.

"Wanna give the elements away after dinner" Callia asked suddenly.

"Wouldn't miss it," Dawn replied with as much cheer as an extremely exhausted person could.

* * *

"For your freshman graduation essay, you will write about everything you learned this year as a freshman and how you will use those lessons in sophomore year and beyond," the English teacher said. "It is due the last A Day before graduation. Got it?"

"Yes, Ms. Tully," Dawn nodded as she put the assignment away in the folder she had of a red cat in a wheelbarrow. The shopping spree seemed like it was years ago. Heck, Callia-less living seemed years ago. And the face that she now controlled 1/7th of the universe was mind-blowing, to say the least.

Suddenly, pressure enveloped her mind and crushed her like Jezebel's water had back in the volcano. She couldn't control power. She had wielded her powers of beauty, naïvete, and empathy to manipulate people like Angelica into doing things for her. But she made a mistake with a person, she could just move to a different school. She couldn't possibly move to a different planet if she were to infect Earth with carbon monoxide by accident! What if she did?

"Callia! Callia!" Dawn cried out. "I'm scared! Everything's so unfamiliar. I can't quite let go of the Mimosa Mansion!" Dawn didn't know why she made such the statement about her house. It had been in her family ever since Eliza and Solomon Reid built it back during the Industrial Revolution, but Dawn just wanted to go home.

"It'll be alright," Callia said. "If Magick runs rampant, there are Morphers to smooth things over so Nature can reign again. Besides, creating magick takes energy. Creating enough to go against nature will undoubtedly knock you out before you can do anything."

"Morphers? People who change shape, like Varda?"

"Precisely. Now, here are your element tokens," Callia said. She took out the Airy Wand of Breezes. "This is for casual use only. It's very easy to aim, but it can only send out so much power." Next, the Staff of Gales was handed to Dawn. "It's a lot stronger, but heavier and harder to aim right. Here's the recorder, which can strengthen the wind if you're too tired to do it yourself or weaken it. The orb is a ball of wind so strong it will blow anything to Jupiter from whatever's inside. The locket establishes that you are the sole person to use such things. The tokens in anyone else's hands will be useless. And here's another cool trick," Callia let each of the tokens touch Dawn's skin. They seemed to fuse and the token disappeared. Dawn knew where they were, but Callia had no idea.

"Cool, but just a little bit disgusting, but on the plus side, no more Calix reading my diary!" Dawn cheered with a fist in the air. Callia laughed again.

* * *

"How was it?" Callia asked after Choir Trip 2008.

"Horrid. I stayed in Sam's group and he was absolutely horrid to me," Dawn sighed. She had a crush on Sam's best friend Calix, and it was blindingly obvious.

"It'll go better next year," Callia said.

"I hope," Dawn sighed. She brightened suddenly. "Homeward bound next week!" she cheered.

"Paper due tomorrow," Callia reminded.

Dawn groaned. Trust Callia to ruin a moment! She went off to do it as the phone rang.

"Dawn," Callia entered nervously. "Ken Tully just died."

* * *

Dawn and Callia ran down the hallway as fast as they could. Callia stopped dead as soon as she saw the body under white cloth being wheeled away and flung out her right arm to keep Dawn from getting further. Dawn didn't notice. She ran right into the stiff arm with an "Ump!"

"Callia," Dawn whispered. "The Light." It felt like she was starving, but it was in her heart. There was so much pain, she might as well have been numb. It was so cold, and her visions had started randomly blurring.

"It can be yours. It already was, in a way," Callia said.

"Good," Dawn said strangely. As Jaunie pushed Ken away, there was clatter and pale yellow objects fell to the ground. Dawn picked them up and walked over to Jaunie. She felt strangely uneven, like she would tip over any second, in a way that had nothing to do with grief.

"Don't just deliver him to the funeral home yet, please," Dawn pleaded.

"Why not?" Jaunie looked up curiously.

"Because I can bring him back," Dawn said. "It's completely within my powers, just like it was in Varda's to heal Ken's injuries if Callia had told her about it early enough."

"How?" Jaunie asked.

"In private," Dawn said. She followed Jaunie to another room and waved the Staff at Ken's body and let loose.

Damn.

Callia was right. It took energy to bring Ken back. And then Dawn was unconscious, still feeling weird, and Ken screamed in pain.


	11. Don't Let Me Get Me

The italics are memories that Dawn dreams about in her coma. This epilogue switches between Dawn's dreams and Callia being furious. The reason Ken's in pain is because he's the Light, so he feels it when another Light is nearby. Light and Wind are not the same elements, and therefore repel each other. Usually, the feeling of magicks battling each other is very painful, but Dawn, if you read the first diary entry, is impervious to pain. Unfortunately, Ken's not. "Don't Let Me Get Me" is by Pink.

* * *

Epilogue: Don't Let Me Get Me

_Varda took a stick off the ground and handed it to Dawn. "The left end is unhappy, the right end is happy. Make us not see the unhappy left end."_

_Dawn took it and managed to break off part of it._

"_I told you to break off the left end. Why is it still there?" Varda asked._

_Dawn looked at the stick and flung it to the ground as tears filled her eyes. "The left end's always gonna be there!" she whined._

"_No, it won't," Varda picked the stick up and held it vertically so that the right end faced her. "I don't see a left end, even though you do. The second I told you to stop being unhappy, you stared at the left end like there was no tomorrow. It's such a habit, isn't it, to look at the dark side? If you make optimism a habit, you will be an optimist and much happier." Silence followed._

"_What you just said makes more sense that I've heard from anyone, even the psychologist the court assigned me," Dawn squeaked. Her eyes were bloodshot._

"_That's because I find odd and surprising bits of beauty in ugliness," Varda said smugly, reminding Dawn that she was but a teenage human, after all. _****

"_Go outside," Varda said. "Go on the beach, outside of the car."_

"_That's stupid!" Dawn said belligerently. "There's all this bird crud and rotting seaweed and moss."_

"_And cedar and salt," Varda said. "Those are fresh."_

"_Yeah," Dawn looked up a bit. Vivid colors glistened in bright sunlight. "It's beautiful," she said before she could help it. She wanted to take that back, not giving any ground as to her pride. But the world __**was**__ beautiful, and taking back what she said would require missing the beauty._

_How much beauty had she missed in her life? Was Varda seeing this? Why have beauty like this if you couldn't share it so people could help preserve it? No, the beauty lay in the fact that it was natural. Dawn's life was processed so that she wouldn't know seaweed smelled in the sun after it died. But if nothing died, nothing could live. She wondered if she deserved to die. Then again, had she any right to live? Did her well-publicized life have meaning? She knew her body would one day become something ants made homes out of. That was okay, because it was natural. But would the world benefit? Was she more useful than a tree or a weed? Was she alive just so her body could be fertilizer for a tree or a weed? Yes, someday she'd die and lie there and be eaten by maggots, but today she would help someone and make the world better._

"Idiot expelled so much energy that she's in a coma," Callia gritted her teeth. "Where's Sam?"

"On the phone," Varda said, trying to be helpful.

"Sam, I need you to come to Sacred Mary's Hospital and kill Ken Tully. Yes, with magick!" Callia took the phone with no small amount of frustration. An hour later, Sam was still stuck in traffic. Although something must be said for our oceans if you can have congested boat traffic.

Jaunie ran up to them and waved maniacally. "She's awake!" she yelled.

* * *

_Dawn was taking out the trash like she did every Saturday, but this wasn't every Saturday, clearly, because she heard moans coming from the dumpster. Had a person more clumsy than her fallen down while unloading a particularly heavy bag of garbage? She found a cardboard box, like the kind that used to hold her refrigerator, moving like there was someone in there. Without thought, she jumped in and kicked a hole in the cardboard before literally ripping it to shreds with her hands until a boy rolled out. "What happened?" Dawn was freaked out._

"_My dad beat the holy snot out of me, took the belt to me, and put my ear too close to the stove," Ken said without emotion, mostly because he was too busy gritting his teeth in what must have been agony. "I didn't think he would lock me in here, though."_

_Dawn looked at Ken with motherly tenderness. He had bruises from his scalp to his neck, a split lip, a rib fractured so badly that it had burst through the skin, and bruises on his bibs and stomach area. Not until she had gotten him to the hospital did she found out he also had 30 broken bones and a liver ulcer._

_After making sure he would be alright, she went back to look around in the box filled with rat droppings. There was a bag of rotten spaghetti and a bag of flour crawling with bugs. It was enough to make her puke._

Dear Magenta,

Since I started off the year with a diary entry before I met Callie (I shall always call her that in my heart) I figured it's only fitting to end the year with another one.

I was once raised by a mother who indulged my every wish. All my goals fulfilled instantly, I had only one thing in mind, and that was to have fun. I had fun by looking for pretty things. I developed a good eye for breathtaking vistas. But even 360-dgree views don't stay breathtaking forever. The first high, as druggies say, is always the best. So I shared my views. But even then it felt limited. Must I go to Mt. Everest after my balcony is no longer enough? That was when friend showed me the beauty in clumps of grass. I could no longer ignore that beauty was all around me. At first, I thought all the world was beauty. Then I met Ken Tully.

He was constantly abused by his family and I was the one who found him after they decided to throw him away to die. I remember how he looked in that box they stuffed him in. He was emaciated, his skin was chafed, and he was so pitifully ill. When I found him, he was only a little bit older than me now. All of a sudden, I saw despicable grossness in the world. I couldn't see the beauty anymore. But Ken could.

Ken, who had seen his younger sister brained by his mom, suffers to this day from being whipped and beaten and even burned daily by his father. Yet he saw beauty in the world. I saw, at most, redemption. And then I saw beauty in the face that Ken overcame his ugliness. That's when I knew why people suffered so much—to see beauty in their overcoming of it.

I chose to write about beauty because, although we have people talk about it all the time, no one claims to understand it while everyone pretends to. So I talk about it as a girl who doesn't completely get it, but is trying to get there. I would never have guessed I could start understanding something by accepting that I can't understand it, but it's true. To quote a different Dawn, "The hardest thing to do in this world is to live in it."

* * *

Callia was berating Dawn after she awoke when the whole world went to hell.

* * *

That's all, folks! I hope you enjoyed it. I dedicate this to my best friend Cwen (Mara) for just being the most beautiful person on Earth, inside and out!


End file.
